Kryptonite
by lrigD
Summary: Booth realizes it is possible to love two people at once, and how much he hates hurting one of them. Post 6x09.
1. Chapter 1

**_Been reading a bit of Bones fanfiction lately (I finally have time, yay!) and I slowly started to realize I couldn't leave them alone - Booth and Brennan, I mean. I watched 5x16 and 6x09 again (the good parts, anyway) and I was struck by just how tragic it all is. And so today I just opened Word and started writing. As a result, this is written on a whim and may not be entirely logical all the time - I apologize for that._**

**_Title comes from the song Kryptonite by Three Doors Down. "I really don't care what happens now and then / As long as you'll be my friend in the end." I thought it was fitting._**

**_Enjoy the story!  
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_**This was not the way it was supposed to happen.

He was in bed, lying next to the woman he was living with –the woman he _loved_, damnit– and he couldn't stop thinking about his friend, his best friend who had just told him that she'd made a mistake turning him down on that fateful night a year ago.

The woman he'd loved for several years. The woman he –if he was fair to himself– still loved as more than a partner, more than a friend.

Was it possible to love several people at once?

He looked at the woman lying asleep next to him, facing him with a carefree expression on her face. Hannah was so sweet, possessing a cheerful kind of happiness which had been one of the things that had attracted him in her. Conversation with her was easy: as a journalist, she knew exactly when to stop and when to push, and she had an acute ability to read people's minds that sometimes scared even him. She was intuitive, easy-going, fun – a woman with whom a relationship was easy.

So why was he thinking about that other woman, with whom he had a turbulent past, with whom a relationship was anything but easy?  
No, that was not true, he corrected himself. Their relationship _had_ been easy for a long time. She'd been the first woman he had really felt at home with – even before there was a hint of anything romantic, back when they'd simply been friends. The nights of working late, with take-out near them, bantering back and forth between serious conversations and careless flirting – that part of the relationship _had_ been easy.  
But they shared so much more. They knew so many things that _weren't_ simple. His father, her father, Jared, Sully – they had shared their pain and had become so much closer because of it.

And now – now what? He had told her he loved her almost a year ago, and they'd both cried – he had cried because he'd seen his future blown away, had seen the pain in her eyes, and had known –_known _- that she felt it too. The attraction. And maybe she'd rationalized it all away, but he knew that it would have to come out someday.

He'd never expected to find anything in Afghanistan. He'd gone away depressed, hoping that the distraction of prepping young men would suffice, and had instead found himself dreaming of her, replaying their conversations over and over, wondering where he'd gone wrong.  
And then Hannah – it hadn't been love at first sight, but she was a fun distraction in the desert, a way to take his mind away from the daily reality of death and the nightly dreams of a woman he couldn't have.  
He hadn't expected it to last. But Hannah had been good to him. She'd healed parts of him he had barely known were hurt at all, and she'd made him _feel_ something other than pain.

But Bones…

He loved her. He couldn't hide the truth from himself, and he almost laughed out loud at the irony of becoming one of those men he'd always loathed – being with one woman and loving another.  
Now he was in that exact same position.

Restless, he slipped away from under his covers. Hannah made a protesting noise, but she didn't wake up, and he was grateful for that.

She'd asked him what was wrong when he'd come home – of course, she had noticed the pain in his eyes– and he, fool that he was, hadn't told her. Didn't want her to know. Hannah didn't know his history with Bones, didn't know about that first kiss, all those years back, or the one under the mistletoe, or the one most recent. She knew they were close, but he had told her nothing of how that bond had formed, how much they knew of each other. She hadn't asked him how he felt about her and he hadn't offered. When they'd first met he'd wanted to keep that part to himself -_what goes on between us, that should just be ours_- and now it was just easier to not talk about it.

But her tear-stricken face kept flashing before his eyes and he couldn't think straight, didn't know what to feel.

He'd never seen her this way. Not after the discovery of her mother's body, not when Zack had left, not even last year, when she had turned him down.  
She'd looked defeated. She'd never looked defeated.

And with that, realization came – he couldn't just leave her like that. He didn't know what she would do. Maybe he knew how she felt, he could relate to her, after all, but he didn't know how she would cope.  
He had to find her.

He wrote a quick note for Hannah; although she was quite a heavy sleeper, he didn't want her to worry. Then he put on a shirt and shoes, grabbed his keys and left.

He made it to her house in record time; thankfully, traffic was sparse at 3 a.m.

Her face… as he stood in front of her door, debating whether he'd made the right choice, he couldn't forget her face. He wondered what she'd done afterwards – had she gone to sleep, gone out? Maybe she'd been drinking – god, what if she wasn't even home?

His decision made, he raised his hand and knocked – his signature knock.

She opened almost at once, which greatly relieved him; it also told him that she'd never gone to sleep. She looked thoroughly distressed. Her eyes were red and her hair was a mess. She was still dressed in the same wet clothes and his first thought was for her safety.

"Booth!" Her voice held both surprise and sadness, and with a pang in his heart he realized he was the source – the only source – for that sadness.

"What are you doing here?"

He didn't want to, couldn't, answer her question. Instead, he stepped aside her and into the apartment.

"Bones, come on, you've got to get out of those wet clothes!" he exclaimed, almost immediately wishing he hadn't said that. "I mean, you're gonna get sick this way," he adjusted quickly.

"What?" she asked, distractedly. She was still looking at him with large eyes, obviously unsure what to do.

"Booth, why are you here?"

He sighed, knowing he couldn't avoid the question.

"Look, you get out of those clothes and then we'll talk, OK? I just don't want you to get sick."

He saw something in her eyes – gratefulness, perhaps – before she turned around and simply left. While she was gone, he stared at her bookshelves, realizing the lay-out had changed. There were more books and more trinkets, too. He held his breath as he realized what exactly those trinkets were. He saw a picture of the team, laughing and toasting to something he couldn't remember. There was a picture of them, cut from a newspaper, as well as a picture taken on the night of the Anok exhibition – he smiled automatically as he remembered that night.

And Jasper. The little pig rested on the highest shelf. He couldn't remember ever seeing it before in her house.

With a start he realized how long ago it was that he'd last visited her house. Before Afghanistan at the very least – which made it almost a year.  
God. He'd been neglecting her for almost a year. Their friendship, which, although she hardly ever mentioned it, meant so much to her, had been put on a halt. First naturally, since they were half a world away from each other, but since they'd both been back in D.C., he'd spent his free time with Hannah rather than Bones.

He'd left his best friend alone – no wonder she felt lonely, no wonder she'd surrounded herself with memories of them. He'd hardly seen her outside of work – when was the last time they'd gone out together, just the two of them, non-work related? He couldn't even remember; maybe tonight was the closest they'd been in a while.

He started when she came back into the room, dressed in a pair of thick sweatpants and a shirt. She caught him looking at the bookshelves, but didn't comment.

Now that she was here again, the reality of the situation struck him.

They were going to have to talk.

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**_It's not going to end here - I mean, it's just plain cruel to end it here - but I don't know when part 2 will be up. Probably soon, since I suck at holding out... I can tell you that it will contain a lot more dialogue.  
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**_Please tell me what you think! I really want some feedback on this - if you write yourself, you know how much reviews can mean!  
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	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks for the reviews, favs and alerts everyone! Although I have to say, I got 3 times as many alertys as reviews... That's a bit disappointing****, but I'm just hoping for everyone to review after this chapter! **_

**_Alright, so, chapter two... This one is a bit shorter but I like it anyway._**

_**Don't own Bones.**_

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"Why are you here?" she asked him for the third time, seating herself in the only chair in her living room –and, he noticed, the seat furthest away from him.

"Bones, I-" he didn't know how to continue; why had he come here so unprepared? He should know that talks like this needed some preparation.

"I just wanted to make sure you're OK." It was lame, especially after the intensity of the night they'd had, but it was the truth.

"I'm fine," she said harshly, and he thought maybe he deserved the harshness. He could see she'd been startled back into the detached, cold persona she assumed whenever she was hurt, and it hurt him more than anything to know _he_ was the reason.

There was silence for a moment, in which Brennan looked everywhere except for at him and he tried to think of something to say, anything that would suit the situation, that would explain his behaviour.

"Bones, you –" She finally looked at him and with her gorgeous eyes focused on him he found it much harder to concentrate.

"You understand why I said what I said tonight, don't you?" he asked her gently.

She nodded, but he thought he saw something shimmering in her eyes. Damn, was he making her cry again? Since when had he become a source of tears?

"You have Hannah now," she said. She was trying to sound strong, but her voice broke on 'Hannah' and he could _see_ the change in her face, knowing she hated showing weakness. "I understand."

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, wishing he could change the facts. She nodded again, looking away from him, and brushed her cheek.

He thought about what to say to her, how to comfort her. Looking at her, he realized his feelings for her would probably never disappear completely, and he found himself wishing, irrationally, that Hannah hadn't come along, that he could've saved her, saved them, all this pain.

But it wasn't fair. Not to Bones, not to himself, and certainly not to Hannah.

He took a bold step.

"Bones…" he waited until she looked at him again, and he suddenly hated the distance between them. It didn't suit them. He stood up and kneeled before her chair, making a move to hold her hand but changing his mind at the last time.

"Bones, I-" God, this was so hard, harder than anything he'd ever done. He looked into her eyes, hoping that, for once, she could read his eyes, read what he was trying to say.

Maybe she did, because she jerked violently and swiveled the chair, moving backwards, away from him.

"Bones," he said again, his voice on the brink of desperation.

"Booth, please leave."

She sounded cold but he knew she was trying to collect herself, just as he knew that she'd turned away from him because she couldn't stand him seeing her weak, didn't want him to see her tears. His heart broke as he wondered when she'd begun to think she needed to hide her pain from him, that she needed to run to appear strong.

But this time, he wouldn't let her get away.

"Bones…" he stepped closer and touched her shoulder. She jerked away from him again, but he turned her and crushed her to his chest.

The effect was immediate. She stiffened at once and he could _feel_ her muscles tense, but he just held on and slowly, very slowly, she started to relax.

God, he'd missed her so much – how could he not have seen that? How could he not have seen that pushing her away would resolve nothing? He'd thought it would save them hurt, save _him_ heartbreak, but all it had done was cause pain.

He felt hot tears on his shirt and noticed with surprise that his own cheeks were wet, too, but he simply didn't want to let her go. He could finally hold her and not care about anyone seeing.

In the back of his mind, the thought registered that he shouldn't enjoy hugging her this much, that he had a girlfriend whom he loved, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. Regardless of what would happen with Hannah, with Bones, he was here now and she needed him.

She was crying into his chest, softly, trying not to let him hear – but he heard anyway, and he tried to comfort her with strokes on her back, with silly words in her ear. It felt intimate, desperate, romantic, _amazing_ all at once. He imagined how they would look to anyone seeing them now: a man and a woman, clinging to each other, afraid to let go.

Finally, though, she pulled back and looked at him. She moved his hand towards his face and he took a step backwards instinctively, but she merely wiped the tears from his face with sadness in her eyes. She seemed more collected and for that fact he was grateful, knowing she hated to feel irrational.

"Bones…" he didn't know how to tell her how he felt, how _she_ made him feel. He couldn't tell her what would happen. He needed to tell Hannah, they needed to talk, not necessarily about this, but she needed to know about his history with Bones. Maybe she could offer some insight, maybe she had some advice. And, he thought, it would be only fair to her.

At last he knew what to say.

"Give it time. Everything happens eventually… all those things you think will never happen, they'll happen. You just have to be ready for it."

He could see in her eyes she recognized his words and she offered him a smile. A weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. He smiled back and walked away from her, out of her apartment. There wasn't much more he could say.

Because he had no doubt they would be together. Eventually.

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**_Right, and those final words reflect exactly how I feel... they _will_ get together, I have no doubt._**

**_Reviews are very, very much appreciated! I'd hand out naked Booths or something of the sort, but unfortunately I don't own him (but God I wish I did!)...  
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	3. Chapter 3

**_Well, chapter three! I never expected to write this, but here it is anyway. :)_**  
**_Thanks for the reviews, everyone! I really appreciate it :)  
I'm kind of nervous for this chapter... In spite of everything I do like Hannah and I want to portray her correctly; not to bitchy, but not _too_ sweet either. I have no idea how I succeeded..._**

**_Now enjoy!_**

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As he drove home, Booth wondered why he felt so strangely relieved. Bones had been alright; she hadn't been trying to kill herself or drowning herself in alcohol, or she hadn't gone out to pick up a random man and 'satisfy her biological urges' – he wouldn't have been surprised if she had, but she hadn't. She'd been home and, although she'd appeared heartbroken, at least she'd been OK.

Physically.

He couldn't help but laugh bitterly at the irony of the situation – them causing each other the exact same kind of pain: the pain of being turned down, of seeing your chance thrown away. He knew exactly how she felt; after all, he'd been through the same. And now she knew how he'd felt, too. He wondered how long they would continue this dance of unintentionally hurting each other.

He'd reached home before he even realized it, and as he walked up the stairs he debated what to tell Hannah. They needed to talk, but how would she react? She was a graceful woman and she genuinely liked Bones, but, as the old poet said, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned… and after what he'd tell her, she may become a very scorned woman.

When he opened the door, he was greeted with the sight of Hannah slumped on the couch, eyes barely open. When she saw him, though, she stood up and hugged him hard. Surprised, he hugged back.

"Seeley. Where've you been? I was worried, you were just gone!"

"I left a note!" he told her, his voice rising slightly in defense. "Here-" he grabbed the note from the table and held it in front of her. She mouthed the words.

"You went to Temperance? Is she OK?"

Her immediate concern for Bones warmed him; on the other hand, knowing that she cared for Bones made this all the harder.

"She's alright," he said warily. "But we need to talk."

She looked at him immediately with worry and again his heart warmed at the sight of this caring woman. She sat down at once, taking him with her, and he appreciated how she simply accepted his statement.

"Is it Temperance? She wasn't herself, I know the case affected her somehow. Did she…"

"It wasn't just about the case," he interrupted. Then he sighed again. "Look, Hannah, you deserve to know the truth."

"What truth?" Hannah asked him immediately. "Seeley, you're really worrying me here."

"Don't worry, I'm not dying or anything," he told her dryly. "It's just… Bones and I... we have a history."

She nodded but said nothing else; in her eyes, he could see she was mentally preparing for what was to come.

"When we first worked together, that was-" he thought for a moment, "-over six years ago, we… sort of… kissed."

He could see the surprise in her eyes, but she didn't seem shocked or angry.

"I figured as much," she told him. "With the way you two act…" There was a hint of sadness in her tone, maybe because her suspicions had become confirmed, and Booth feared how she would react to the rest of the story.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, almost automatically. "I should've told you sooner, I just…" he couldn't explain it, not even to himself, let alone to her.

"It's alright," she told him. "What's a kiss six years ago?"

He swallowed. "No, it's not… there's more. " He took a deep breath.

"Oh God. Did you two sleep together?" For a moment, he was reminded of the time she moved in, and she had sounded exactly the same; shocked and slightly afraid.

"No, no," he answered distractedly. "She… we… no."

Hannah nodded, apparently relieved, and he continued talking.

"I, uh…" Maybe he'd thought talking to Bones earlier was hard, but this was so much harder to say. "Over the years I started, uh, liking her as more than just a friend." He couldn't meet Hannah's eyes; instead, he looked at his toes as he continued. "Last year, we went to Sweets to tell him that the Cleo Eller case _wasn't_ the first one we'd worked and he'd made a mistake, and it all sort of … came up again."

He finally dared to look up and saw Hannah watching him intently. He saw no judgement in her eyes, no disgust or even pity: she simply looked at him with sympathy and maybe a touch of –entirely justified– anger. God, what had he done to deserve such a woman?

"When we went outside, I told her I wanted to try… and she, uh, she turned me down."

He felt a hand on his arm and Hannah gently squeezed it. "So that's why you seemed as if you'd just lost your puppy in Afghanistan." He was eternally grateful for the fact that she didn't seem angry or upset, but that she simply accepted the facts.

"Yeah… But, Hannah, you need to believe that I love you."

"I know you do," she said simply. "I love you too."

That concise statement allowed him to continue his story. "We haven't really talked about it... and I guess I thought she'd just pushed it away, you know, compartmentalized, but tonight…" he took another deep breath. "She was in Woodland, Hannah, in the rain, and she was almost run over before I pushed her off the street."

"She was almost in an accident?" She sounded disbelieving and he could understand that; it was nothing like Bones to risk her life in such a way.

"I don't know what was going on," he said, wanting to hear her opinion despite the hard story he was telling. "She seemed almost apathetic at first, but then she started saying stuff about how Lauren would do something dangerous if she felt emotional, and that the universe turned upside down for three days. I didn't know what the hell she was talking about, but then I gave her a ride back home."

"Wow, that's very unlike her," Hannah wondered out loud.

"Then on the way home she said…" He looked at Hannah and chuckled humourlessly. "She always had lousy timing… she said she'd made a mistake and that she didn't want to have any regrets."

Hannah was quiet for a long moment. "She asked you to be in a relationship with her." It was a statement, not a question, but he nodded anyway.

"And, you know, I told her I was with you, but then, God, Hannah, I've never seen her like that. She started crying and she didn't even look at me anymore, and when I dropped her off she just stepped out without even _looking_ at me…"

He wanted, _needed_ her to understand why he went to her apartment in the middle of the night. "I just wanted to check up on her, Hannah, I know how I felt last year and I didn't know what she would do."

Hannah took a deep breath, then nodded. "I understand," she said, the same words Bones had said to him less than an hour earlier.

There was silence for a long time. Hannah started ahead of her, into empty space, and Booth didn't want to interrupt her thoughts. Finally, though, she looked up and laughed mirthlessly. "This is quite the conversation to have at" –she checked the grandfather clock– "four in the morning."

"I was just so worried, Hannah. I didn't just want to call her. I was afraid she'd gone out and hooked up with a random guy or something, or..." He didn't dare finish the sentence.

"What happened at her place, then?" Hannah suddenly asked. "Was she drunk or something?"

He unknowingly gave a sigh of relief. "No, she just looked really sad. We just talked for a little bit. I didn't want to leave it the way I did earlier." He still felt reluctant telling Hannah about tonight, about everything between them, and he decided that the hug they'd shared wasn't so monumental she needed to know.

He bit his lip; now came the hard part.

"Hannah, before I say anything else I need you to believe that you're not just my rebound girlfriend or a consolation prize or anything like that. I seriously didn't expect anything after Bones and you just came along and… you made me so much happier, I mean, I'll always be grateful to you for that."

"Are we breaking up?" she asked him, sadly, and he was surprised by the resigned acceptance in her voice.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "But I think you need to know that…" he paused for a moment, trying to phrase his feelings carefully. "I don't think I'll ever feel 'just friendship' for Bones."

Silence. The grandfather clock in the corner had never ticked so loudly as he waited for Hannah's reply. When none came, he looked at her and saw that tears were in her eyes, and he felt incredibly guilty.

"Hannah, I…" he didn't know what to say. Running a hand through his hair, he tried anyway. "I want to be with you. I love you. But I don't think it's fair to you if you don't know this."

Finally, she nodded. "Thanks for telling me," she said, and her voice was hoarse.

"I'm really sorry," he told her, feeling like the words didn't cover in the slightest what had happened. "I really am. I wished it was different, but… these are the facts." The irony of telling her the same words he'd told Bones earlier didn't escape him.

Hannah sat up straighter and he could see she'd come to some kind of decision.

"So you've been in love with her since the beginning?" she asked and her tone was much lighter, as if she was casually asked about the weather.

"Not _in love_," he replied. "She just always had… I don't know, _something_ in her just attracted me. Even though everybody said she was a cold fish, I just wanted to prove them wrong, somehow."

"Yeah, it's so annoying when people make assumptions like that," she muttered, more to herself than to Booth. Then she turned to him resolutely.

"Do you still love her?"

He swallowed. This was the question he'd feared; one of the hardest questions he'd have to answer. He thought carefully about what to say, but decided there was no good way to say this.

"I don't think I can _not_ love her," he said. His lips were dry; he licked them in the deafening silence. In the end he could take it no longer; he was a jackass for doing this to Hannah, he needed to explain, to make clear that it was only his fault.

"Hannah, I'm… I feel terrible feeling like this and _want_ to love only you, I really do, but … can you love two people at once?" he asked miserably.

She laughed, softly, an unexpected sound in the silence. "You can," she told him. "You really can."

She didn't sound resentful and he had a hard time figuring out how she felt. In her place, he suspected he'd be angry, upset and definitely not as calm as she was right now.

Hannah seemed to be able to read his mind, because she leaned forward and placed her hand on his again. "I'm OK, Seeley," she said a little sadly. "Can't say I'm happy with this, but I understand."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "You do? God, what did I ever do to deserve you?"

"I don't know, but I've asked that question myself," she said, with a bit of her old playfulness. "Guess you just got lucky."

"That I did," he answered while he looked into her eyes. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there… Maybe I wouldn't have been here tonight. Really, I know it sounds lame but I can't thank you enough, Hannah. You… you healed parts of me I didn't even know were hurt."

"Well, you're welcome… I guess," Hannah replied, bewildered at the absurdity of the conversation.

He grasped her hand atop his. "So, what now?"

It was a good question.

What now?

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**_So, what'd you think? I hope it was enjoyable for both Hannah-lovers and haters! Please tell me what you thought; reviews are very, very much appreciated. :)_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter four already! Now, before you start reading, I know it seems a little unrealistic how Hannah reacted and how Booth and Brennan act in this chapter, but just bear with me, alright? I'll (try to) explain at the end of the chapter.  
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**_For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter!_**

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They'd both gone to bed separately. He'd taken Parker's room, insisting they needed to spend the night apart and she hadn't really protested. His sleep had been disturbed; he chalked it down to simply not being used to sleeping alone anymore, but he knew it had to do with the revelations of the previous night.

But now Hannah was gone: she hadn't waited on him for breakfast. He couldn't blame her, not really, but she had seemed reasonably complacent last night; it wasn't like her to just disappear this morning.

Scuffling into the kitchen, he quickly made himself some breakfast when his eye was caught by a piece of paper on the kitchen table.

_Seeley,_

_I'm sorry for leaving early this morning, but I need some time to think. I'm going to spend a few days with my friend Alicia. Please don't call me; I'll call you when I'm ready._

_Hannah_

He scrunched up the note in his hand. He didn't blame her for anything, but he did feel a little hurt. He knew she was in her right to leave, and if he'd been her, he'd probably have stormed out the door rather than calmly waited the night; still, the unusual silence in his apartment unsettled him. He wasn't used to the silence anymore.

He was glad she'd specified where she was, though, and knew she had added that little bit because she knew he'd worry.  
Despite her calm reaction when they had talked, he now knew she _was_ upset by what he'd told her. Apparently, she wasn't quite as OK with this as he'd thought.

Of course she isn't, idiot, he admonished himself. You've basically told her she'll always be second best, next to Bones…

Bones. He was going to see her today; he honestly didn't think he had enough patience to _ever_ spend an entire day at the office, even during a day like this. The office, although it could be quite thrilling, was inextricably tied to paperwork and boredom, whereas the lab always offered something new, and, although he'd never admit it, a place to see his friends. And to see Bones.  
Besides, they needed to get started on the inevitable paperwork that followed any case; and he really did want to see her. It was a sadistic kind of wish: he wanted to see her, but at the same time he knew it would hurt. If he told her that Hannah and he had suspended their relationship –after all, they hadn't broken up yet– he'd hurt her all over again. Maybe she'd be happy that their relationship was as good as over, maybe she'd be sad for him, but he knew that whatever happened, he couldn't just forget it. Despite everything, he hadn't lied. He did love Hannah. And he would be unhappy if she left, which seemed like a rather realistic possibility at the moment.

He hoped she wouldn't be all rational and detached, the way she sometimes became when things got a little too personal for her; what if she refused to see him? He had no idea what had happened between the time he'd dropped her off and when he'd visited her again, nor about what had happened after he had left for the second time. Maybe she had come to the conclusion that he was an insufferable bastard and that he was no longer worthy of her time. He had to admit to himself it seemed like a ridiculous scenario considering how his check-up the previous night had ended, but with Bones, he could never be sure.

Maybe you should just get it over with, he thought. Rip it off like a band-aid.

When he walked into the Jeffersonian Institute forty minutes later, there was a repressed mood that instantly brought him back down to earth. Or was he just imagining it?

In any case, he walked a bit slower towards his usual first stop for the day: Bones' office.

He walked in just as confidently as any other time, but stopped short when he saw the empty chair in front of the desk.

She wasn't there.

He turned around and narrowly avoided her as she turned the corner to enter her office.

"Heya Bones, watch it there!" He sounded as normal as he could muster, and caught her looking surprised for barely a second before she assumed her normal, neutral expression.

"Hey, Booth," she said. He couldn't detect anything in her voice or expression other than, maybe, a little bit of apprehension.

"So, uh, we need to go over the paperwork," he told her, for once wielding to her wish for straightforwardness. "Feel up to it?"

"Yeah, yeah," she answered distractedly, and despite everything his heart leapt in his chest. "Could we perhaps meet later today? I was just given this rather interesting report on the mating rituals of the Betamaribe in Benin, and I…"

"Yeah… Bones? Those Beta-people will still be there, we need to get this paperwork done!" The situation felt deliciously familiar as he grabbed her arm in order to pull her away from her office. She shook his arm off and moved into her office. He followed her as she told him: "Betamaribe, Booth, or Tammari, an animist people in Benin and some parts of Togo. They're relatively unfamiliar." She sounded so exotic when she pronounced the names, as she always did with those tribes whose names he could not even read, let alone pronounce.

"Let them enjoy their incognito status a bit longer, alright? Come on, we gotta do this."

He couldn't explain to himself why he wanted to get this done. It would probably be slightly awkward, given both the events of the previous night and Brennan's personal connection to the case. Still, he found himself longing for a bit of that normalcy in their relationship, the easy way their friendship had been before. Although in that stage most of the paperwork had been done at one of their homes at night, with a pack of beer (which, admittedly, may not be the wisest of combinations) and the TV or music on in the background, he didn't quite think either of them was ready for any more late-night visits yet.

He sat down on her office couch and invitingly patted the spot next to him, determined not to give rise to the awkwardness that was starting to appear. "C'mon, Bones, let's get cracking!"

"Cracking what?" she asked confused while rummaging around near her desk. "I'm only familiar with the term 'cracking' in a skeletal frame and I am quite sure you are not using the word in that context."

He sighed happily; he'd missed his old Bones.

"No, Bones, I just mean we should get started on this," he explained.

"Oh," she replied. "In that case, I agree."

She sat down next to him with only a little more space between them than usual; given that he hadn't even been sure she'd see him today, he considered it an improvement.

As they filled out the various forms, Booth was quickly distracted by the sight of her jean-clad legs. She wasn't completely focused either, he noticed, for everyone once in a while her pen was suspended in mid-air and she bit her lip thoughtfully. He decided not to disturb the silence by asking her, though; he could pretty much guess what she was thinking about.

_Me_. _Well, me or that Paramaribo tribe_.

An hour and several pages later, he caught himself glancing at those endless legs for what seemed the umpteenth time and ordered himself to stop thinking of anything that was related to Bones in a physical manner. After all, he was still in a kind of relationship.

Hannah. His girlfriend –he supposed she still was that– had completely slipped his mind. This morning, Hannah had been put on the backburner and Bones had taken up his mind, his space. It had happened before, but then he had simply regarded it as some kind of aftermath; now, however, it felt completely different. After basically telling Brennan that they would get together in the end, every thought of her seemed to confirm what a bastard he was towards Hannah. He felt guilty, and, at the same time, wondered why he'd never realized that he'd never stopped noticing Bones, not even when he was with another woman.

Shaking his head to rid himself of these thoughts, he glanced over at his partner and saw her staring ahead of her into empty space, her eyes glazed and unfixed. Before he stopped to think, he lightly bumped her shoulder.

"Hey Bones, what ya thinking about there?"

She gave a startled noise as she was shaken from her reverie and looked down, slowly colouring a tinge of red. Booth was intrigued. Bones, blushing?

"You know you can tell me," he said, trying to coax her thoughts out of her.

"It is personal, Booth," she tried to deflect. But he knew what it was, could see it in the way she avoided his eyes, how she subconsciously shuffled away from him, barely an inch but he noticed it nonetheless.

"Temperance…" at the use of her given name her head snapped up. "I know it's a little weird between us right now, but… you're still my friend." _And so much more_, he added silently, but he thought it best not to say that out loud at the moment.

"I understand why you turned me down, Booth." Her voice was suddenly very factual. "Your reasons were actually more admirable than mine."

"Bones, don't do that," he said softly. "Don't compare last year to last night."

"Why not?" she fired back. "I turned you down then. You turned me down yesterday. There seem to be parallels." The harsh and yet true words hurt, but he continued anyway.

"It's different, Bones, it just is. OK?" he couldn't explain it to her, but it just was not the same thing.

There was a beat of silence, then he broke it. "Hannah's left."

"What?" she said sharply, turning to look at him. "What do you mean?" she continued, her voice softer.

He rubbed his face with one hand. "I told her about us, I just couldn't continue being with her if she doesn't know how – how important you are to me."

He hadn't meant to phrase it that way, but as he said it he realized it _was_ what it essentially came down too: Bones was, and would always be, important to him, and it was only fair that others, like Hannah, knew that.

She was silent for a moment and he knew she was digesting the information. "So she left?" she finally asked.

He nodded. "She wrote she's staying with a friend. That-" he hesitated for just a moment. "She said she needed some time to think." He could hear the implications in his tone. Because he knew what it meant, didn't he? 'Time to think' almost never resulted in going back to the way things were. Besides, he knew what his decision would be if he were in Hannah's place.

"She isn't returning?" Brennan asked, apparently having come to the same conclusion.

"Well, she's got to pick up her stuff at some point… but I think she's gone." As he said it out loud, the reality of the situation finally hit him. Hannah was almost certainly going to be his ex-girlfriend… the only question was when.

He was surprised that he didn't feel as sad as he'd expected. He loved Hannah. He loved her easy-going ways, her charm. He loved how a relationship with her was built on the present, that they didn't have a loaded history. He'd started with a clean slate. She'd been an easy woman to love.

Maybe that meant she was an easy woman to stop loving, too.

He started at the feel of a hand on his. Bones' hand.

"I'm sorry for you," she said. Her voice was soft and melodious and she sounded quite serious. "I know she made you happy."

And that was it, he thought. Hannah had made him happy in a time when there was little to be happy about. But, as crude as it sounded, maybe he no longer needed Hannah. Maybe he'd finally be able to find happiness on his own again.

"Thanks," he said when he realized Bones was still waiting for a reply. "I appreciate it, Bones."

She nodded briefly and again, they were silent for a while. The paperwork lay all but forgotten on the coffee table and she still had her hand on his, though she hardly seemed to realize. He found himself contemplating how strange the last few days had been… the last day, specifically. Just yesterday he'd been feeling angry at his partner for risking her life, guilty and sad at her admission, then relieved when he'd seen she was okay. Guilt had been prevalent once again during his talk with Hannah and now… now he felt at peace. He should be broken up over Hannah, his girlfriend for over six months, the woman he loved… But he didn't. He felt good. He couldn't quite figure out why, but for now it didn't matter.

"Booth?" Bones' tentative voice cut through his thoughts. Once she saw she had his attention, she continued. "What you said last night… that everything happens eventually. Did you mean it?"

* * *

**_I usually don't do cliffhangers, but this chapter was getting a life of its own and I wanted to stop it while I could. _**

**_Now, I realize the events in this chapter seem very out of character; Booth has just - well, not broken up, but maybe taken a break? from his girlfriend, and he's already this casual person with Brennan (in this chapter, anyway). To be honest I didn't stop to really analyze, I just wrote. (This is why I am no good at stories with actual storylines: I cannot seem to take the time to _think_ about what I write.) However, can you as a reader believe that Booth is compartmentalizing and really, really willing to go back to the way things were with Brennan? I'm probably making way too big of a deal out of this, but I just want to make clear that I don't believe Booth _would _actually act the way he did just after Hannah left, I think he does love her and he wouldn't get over her so quickly, just... he's suspended his relationship for a while, sort of. Out of sight, out of heart? Is that an English expression? (It's a Dutch one, at the least.)_**

**_Sorry to bore you with things you probably don't even want to know; I just wanted to explain myself for a bit. _**

**_I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!  
_**


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